Hands
by MeredithBrody
Summary: A small gesture of support at a crime scene can mean an awful lot. (Ep tag for 1x14.)


**So. This oneshot came because stephncis and I were looking at a promo photo and it looks like Brody and Pride are holding hands, so I had to write this. It's shippy if you squint, but mostly it's a friendship fic. Spoilers for 1x14 and ALL the blame for this goes to Steph as I never would have thought about it if not for her. So! As always, please read and review!  
Shin xx**

* * *

He'd heard the words "agent down" coming from Brody's protective detail and his heart had stopped or a second. All he could imagine was that she'd been hurt, or injured. They had, of course, been called in to run the investigation. This was their city, and one of their fellow agents had been killed on their watch. But with no information to go on other than that an agent had been killed, his mind was jumping to the worst conclusions.

When he and LaSalle pulled up, and he saw Brody directing the crime scene techs he breathed an enormous sigh of relief. He hadn't noticed how much she'd worked her way into his life before that moment. Whatever the thing between them was, it was in the very early stages, so all he knew right now was that at least his friend was safe, she was alive. That was for the best.

"LaSalle, Pride." She said coming over to them, LaSalle had picked up on how distracted Pride was. They were good friends, had been for a long time, and he knew that Christopher would give them space when the time came. Pride just wanted to make sure that Brody was OK, and that she wasn't taking too much of this on her own back. She was sure that it was confusing and terrifying, not having known what happened her, but it still wasn't her fault.

"Brody." LaSalle nodded to her with a smile and gave her a fast hug before stepping back. "I need to look at the scene." He said, and stepped away immediately, almost to the opposite side of the crime scene. While he was planning on having a quiet, private word with Brody, he didn't need for LaSalle to be in a different dial code.

"I'm OK." She said before he even had the chance to ask the question. It was hard for him to imagine exactly how she was feeling. He'd never been one for being on the protective detail list. Once Linda and Laurel became fixtures in his life, the idea of disappearing every few weeks to protect someone for a few hours hadn't been so appealing. But Brody, no matter what she said, really didn't look all that OK to him.

He looked at her seriously, cupping her chin and lifting it gently until she was looking at him. There was a look of terror and fear in her eyes that he didn't quite understand, and he made a promise to himself that he'd find out. "You sure?"

"No. I was feet away." He knew that she'd take it upon herself to blame for this. Pride had seen her self-destructive side already, that's what struck him about one of their first conversations. She hadn't gone to explaining, she'd gone to blaming herself.

"I'm sure you did everything right." He tried to reassure her. Wanting her to know that he had every faith in her. He'd seen her growing and developing as an agent here in New Orleans, and he knew she was dedicated and fastidious, and if he could get away with holding her right here and telling her all that he would do it in a heartbeat.

"There was a threat Pride, I did what I was supposed to do." She was now working herself into a panic where nobody was understanding her. She'd jumped, in her mind, back to the _Moultrie_. Back to the weeks of accusations that she hadn't pulled her weapon, that she wasn't fit to be an agent. He could understand why she'd stayed on land since.

"I know, I know." He understood, but he also knew her, probably better than she expected he did. She would always do the right thing, the thing that she'd been trained to do. He would always trust her with his life, and that's how he knew this wasn't her fault. It was someone's fault, but that someone wasn't her.

She looked at him desperately, as if trying to convince him that this wasn't her fault, even though he knew that it wasn't. He'd asked her if she was running from something all those months ago, when he'd found out about the _Moultrie_. Was she going to try and run again. "This isn't like last time, I didn't freeze."

"I'm sure. You can't control everything." He picked up her hand, thinking that he could just hold it softy, but a second later her fingers were entwined with his and she was breathing deeply, clearly taking comfort in his presence. He was glad as he took the moment to focus on the feel of her hand and reassure his brain that she was OK.

"I know." She mumbled a few seconds later, and his heart broke all over again. He didn't want her to believe that this was her fault, because it wasn't. Bad things happened to good people. It was just unfortunate that it happened on her watch.

"Now walk me through the scene." They needed to stay professional right now, but he kept hold of her hand. However much he didn't want to. So he just moved on, focusing on the scene and nothing else. Not thinking about how she had sounded when she said I know. That was an important thing for him, because she didn't really know. She didn't even really believe him.

"Admiral made the call to walk the line so we approached the building at high alert." She started, and he was disappointed that he'd had to let go of her hand, but this was a time to be professional. Tonight, when they got back, they could have a more private conversation, and he could remind her that what happened on the _Moultrie_ wasn't her fault, and this wasn't her fault. She'd blame herself anyway though, he just wanted to be there so she didn't fall too far. Meredith Brody had worked her way into his heart and his mind and, most importantly, his life. There was no chance he was going to let anything take her away now.


End file.
